Under The Sunlight And Falling Petals
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: She doesn't ever want to stop as she loves this feeling and all that it says to her as she presses closer to her partner. *Inspired by The Eiffel For You Challenge by Katie on The Miraculous Challenges Forum.*


Petals dust the landscape, almost like the way sand blows in the desert.

Standing out among the pink, falling petals, is a woman, spotted with a deep crimson to draw the eye; she stands like a masterpiece, still to catch to the eye, but not quite something that you are allowed to scratch more than a little of the surface of.

Her blue eyes are beacons calling out to the man beside her that while he'd blend into the night, become a shadow if only the sun went down, seemed almost to be dressed to the part of distraction. If she was a bright beacon within the city lights, day or not, then he was a beacon of his own nature, of his own calling.

His eyes reflected green within their pools, rose higher than anyone perhaps could have ever thought they could; his stance melded into the bright sunlight like a comfortable shadow.

His shoulders were dropped loosely, relaxed, and perfectly at peace with his hands at his side yet something in that posture could hold the city's breath in its grasp, and it became obvious that his hands longed and could hold the woman beside him.

He doesn't say a word, just turns to her with a smirk softened by the sun as well as the heart that pumps much desired blood through his body, the heart that keeps him alive, and yet fills him with a burning love for the woman by his side.

The man shifts like a shadow meeting the time of day and turns to fully face her, letting his hands fall on her shoulders, platonic and loving.

With a roll of her eyes, she practically lunges at him: the prey becomes the predator, the ladybug chases the cat down.

Her blue eyes dance under the bright sun, and she doesn't shiver when fall wind sweeps through the Parisian air; her eyes are locked on his as if he's all that's still giving her life, and she can't help but long to close that gap between them.

She makes no verbal signal, doesn't even attempt to catch either his human ears or his cat ears, with a sound, just meets his eyes with the determined look of a woman that for once has thrown her nervous fear away.

He makes her stronger, and for that, every step of the way, she loves him all the more.

Ladybug stands on tiptoes, feels the shift of the wind cut through her suit, standing here on the Eiffel Tower, but her heart jumps through her throat, pools in her lips, as she kisses him.

A taste of Autumn clings to him, as if he's become the season around her, and somehow that brings tears to her otherwise unclouded eyes.

Cat Noir tastes of freedom, of passion, of love outpoured, and even though these are abstracts, they are what immediately fling to her mind and hold fast.

Ladybug imagines that she tastes similar, but she doesn't breathe a word of this thought, doesn't let it take air, because this moment is far too delicate for words, far too delicate to be defined.

Her eyes flutter against his, almost as if she wishes to pull back, but knows that she is drawn much closer than this.

Ladybug feels free in his embrace; it's sturdy and strong, lays a perfect balance between safety, and assurance that she's what her inner strength calls home.

They are much too close in this moment to feel as if they are divided, tongues overlap, tongues dance, and she almost chokes on laughter that meets tears.

Cat Noir is a sign of perfect sanctuary as no matter how broken inside she can feel, he always tapes it back together for her; she's not blind to the flirting or his gentle nature though she's often wished she'd been.

Ladybug's toes begin to cramp, sending little aches of pain straight up her legs, but she doesn't drop; he's taller than her, and she wants to drag out every moment with him that she can.

He's unfairly wearing boots while her feet are only covered by the magical spandex of her suit, and she wonders vaguely, perhaps for the first, perhaps for the hundredth, whether that gives him some of his height advantage.

Her thoughts flutter away from her like little, purified Akumas, and she can't help but press closer.

There's something undeniably cat like about the way that he presses into her, about the soft sounds he begins to make when she runs her fingers through his hair, cool from the wind, and yet the softness of it almost gives it a kind of steady warmth.

Her smile melts into his kiss, and everything about this moment is focused on exploration, because this is so new that she feels as if she should trace everything about it out with her mind's eye.

She finally drops when the pressure in her toes become too much, forcefully pulling their lips apart, though he doesn't give her long to breathe as if they've both realized that it was a mistake to pull back in any way.

Cat Noir pulls her up into his arms, a bridal style of a hold, something that's both steadying and a rush all its own.

There's no need to ask, because somehow within their chests where their hearts often call home, they can feel the need to sink into their embrace and press closer.

Ladybug molds up to meet his lips, doesn't mind the slight cramping in her neck that vanishes when his hand rests behind her head and shifts it into a steadier, more comfortable pose, and there's something altogether tingly about the way that his lips want to stay glued to her own.

She sighs, but it's all the sound that she can let escape, because suddenly his lips are practically frenzied on her, painting this into his memory as solidly as it is painted into her own.

Ladybug doesn't stir from his embrace when he pulls one pigtail out of her hair and delicately ties it around her wrist, almost as if it's their reminder to never forget this moment, so she squeezes him tighter.

Cat Noir's become her chain, became her expression, since he'd lifted her perfectly into his embrace, since he hugged her close with all of the love that his heart can pour into every action, every motion.

Finally as he pulls back, and she sees sunlight stream down on them for the first time in what feels like forever, another soft sound, a twist between a whimper from loss and a soft contented sigh escapes her.

Words feel foreign as minds still seem lost in a fog that the other caused, and so neither speaks, scared of breaking this spell, as she pushes up into him, desperate for another kiss, another reminder.

Cat Noir takes his time now, delicately running one clawed hand through her fallen hair, and she remembers dimly that he pulled out one pigtail to tie around her wrist, so she shifts before he can kiss her again and presses a delicate kiss to his chin, a promise that she wants this too, and for forever if he'll let her.

Her hands shake as she unties her last pigtail, looping a delicate and cute bow over Cat Noir's wrist, and she desperately wishes that it would just stay even though she knows it will vanish when they detransform or more specifically once she does.

Ladybug sighs under his gentle claws that explore the soft and new domain of her hair, and she waits, half patiently and half dying inside to steal another kiss, in his warm embrace.

Her head tilts back in pure, uncontrolled joy when finally he bends down to meet her.

There's a promise in this kiss that doesn't feel like it was in their first one; it fastens the bows tighter around their wrists: hers looped in a quick and fast yet steady knot, his wrapped in an adorable bow.

It feels like it speaks volumes of who they are underneath the suits, feels intimate to feel his bow on his wrist by her side and feels intimate to feel her own bow tickle her skin.

Ladybug decides that she likes it and that she likes the discovery that Cat Noir's hands aren't familiar with making cute bows, don't have the routine mastered that comes easily to her, and she likes how telling her own bow on his wrist is.

It feels decisively like she's revealed her identity to him in one fell, questioning swoop, and she loves the delicate tremor that sets off within her.

She knows that it isn't obvious, but a part of her in those moment, wishes that it was.

Ladybug can't breathe, 'I love you,' though she's half sure that's what all of this says anyway; another part of her still has the energy to be scared, and she hasn't quite realized what her own heart says, but she's relieved that Cat Noir understands her well enough to not breathe those three little words anyway.

She laughs when he pulls away, because nothing else can come out of her throat; it's freeing and wild.

Each and every kiss feels like a first kiss despite the Dark Cupid incident stealing her one and only first kiss away and planting it squarely on Cat Noir's lips, despite her almost kiss for that darn video with Adrien, and she wonders if these can be her true first kisses.

Meaning bubbles to the surface of each one, and she counts it as a testament to how well she knows her partner, how well she's taken to reading his body language, though this is like being dropped into a hot mess of a crash course over what her partner tells her and the world when they kiss.

When she finally catches air that doesn't bubble out of her throat in laughter, she meets his smile head on, and she realizes that not only does she possibly love him and love every little thing she's noticed about him in all of this time, ever since they became partners, she is relieved to see his emotions planted carefully over his face.

His eyes sparkle with love that he's never tried to hide and yet masks behind his more flamboyant emotions, and it becomes all that clearer to her how her partner feels.

His assurety gives her unyielding confidence as she gazes at his soft smile and faintly kiss bruised lips, and she realizes that he loves her with every soft upturn of his lips.

Ladybug notices the soft wave of his eyebrows, relaxed as if the world around them could be ending, and she's all that he'll see regardless.

There are hidden, almost wrinkles to his forehead that have long since, mostly faded, and she realizes that his life isn't easy and yet he's so sure of his feelings for her regardless.

She loops her fingers over his cheekbones, dances them back to his hair, and hopes that he sees her even half close to how she witnesses him in this moment.

Ladybug dives forward with a frenzy to steal the next kiss with an energy that she never realized that she'd had; she'd been energetic with just about every emotion, felt strongly, and let them run through her like persistent tidal waves and yet she's never felt quite this much emotion pound out of her in waves.

She distantly hopes that she doesn't bite his lips, leave marks that they both may want to patch up, and she devours his lips with all of the passion brewing within her.

Ladybug knows passion, knows the energy of pouring forth her creativity into making something new, something bold, something born of all of the love within her, and yet this kiss seems to stem from more than she knew that she could put forth.

She pulls his bottom lip into her mouth, faintly nibbles on it with an urgency, a desire, that pounces on her from the shadows, and she hopes that her faint bout of nerves doesn't carry through the action as if she needed someone else's bottom lip to nibble her nerves fast away on.

Ladybug pushes as close as she can get, pushes the lip out of her warm mouth, to let her tongue slip properly into Cat Noir's mouth, let it explore his mouth in a way of exploration that traipses past anything she's ever known.

She feels as if she's tackling her first Akuma battle ever all over again, and yet with Cat Noir, she feels brave enough to manage this, and she feels a level of confidence that's still relatively new to her despite how long she's been Ladybug now.

When he gingerly pushes her back, it's not with the desire to stop indefinitely, but for the much needed air that she'd dimly forgotten about when all that she wanted was to mold her lips perfectly with his.

She's panting, but her heart still feels like it's under her tongue; she wonders vaguely how she doesn't choke on it then.

Ladybug's hands drop from Cat Noir's hair to land solidly on his shoulders as her flushed cheeks slowly begin to cool and as her eyes stay locked on his.

The bright green of them leave her heart racing, and Ladybug imagines another kiss before she realizes that she's already stealing one yet again.

His lips take over the temporary tango, and she sighs as she molds under his control.

Ladybug breathes in all that Cat Noir's willing to give her; his lips are sturdy as they lead hers.

She wonders if this is what professional dancers chase on the field under the steady embrace of the other's arms built up from ages and hours of trust as it doesn't quite feel unpracticed. It's a dance that she doesn't quite stumble through though she's positive that her kissing style isn't perfect or perfected.

Ladybug longs to get better at kissing only under his careful instructions as she melts further into his embrace, into his hold, and she sighs like she's a delicately unwoven piece of chocolate, to be savored, and savoring the sweet texture and love of such a taste.

She adores this brush of lips on lips, tongue dancing under his leading tongue, and she wonders if people have ever considered kissing a steady lead with a perfect follow.

To her, it feels nothing of the sort; instead it feels like a journey that they have only just begun to walk, a journey that they must take together, switching leaders whenever they must.

Ladybug breathes a steady breath when he pulls away, and suddenly tears begin to prick her eyes as she looks into bright, loving green, and feels as if she's falling somehow under his love.

She wants to press so impossibly close that nothing can tear them apart, that no one can push them apart despite whatever life tries to push on them.

Each kiss feels like a stolen promise, a near silent dance, and she loves the feel of it, the adventure, the joy, the love, and she stays here as he pulls away from her with a loving, goofy smile.

He's her dork despite everything, and she knows that no matter what words leave their tongues after this bright day on top of the Eiffel Tower drawn in by a brush of love under the gentle guidance of their lips, that she won't ever stop loving her dork with all that's she's got.


End file.
